


Psycho

by BananaNeko



Series: Words That Start With P [2]
Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Bathtub, F/M, Failed Attempt At Morbid Humour, Implied abuse, Len in the Shower, Non-Consensual Kissing, Peeping, Perversion, Pretty One-Sided, Stabbing, Written by Fangirl, gory, repressed desires maybe?, retarded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 04:34:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10325690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaNeko/pseuds/BananaNeko
Summary: Think Hitchcock – as re-enacted by a crazy, retarded fangirl.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The “Author” in this fic doesn’t necessarily reflect the author who wrote it, thanks. xP This is just for the sake of humour (that didn’t turn out very funny).
> 
> Randomly inspired by anime.

Sweet, angelic humming wafts from the three-inch opening in the bathroom door, together with the sound of gushing water and faintly soap-scented steam.

The crazy-eyed Author – clad in a food-stained apron, celery-smeared kitchen knife in hand, stinking of celery – can’t help but pause in her cooking job and wander down the hall to the bathroom, drawn by the sound of Len’s irresistible voice. She was making salad – because. Her teenage Vocaloid _needs_ to eat his veggies to stay healthy and cute.

Well, never mind that.

She peeks in through the gap in the door and sees the misty silhouette of Len’s beautiful curvy body through the shower curtain, his back arched, head thrown back as he gracefully washes his gold satin hair. She can even glimpse the faint lines of water flowing down his body.

Breath bated, drooling, the Author ogles at him for a while, hands wringing her apron in an attempt to keep the nosebleed in, but it gushes out anyway, and she stuffs her apron against her lower face in a ball and continues to ogle carnivorously.

The reek of celery coming from the Author is so strong that eventually, Len notices her. He feels chills creeping along his spine and turns around to find a pair of scary eyes watching him bathe from the gap in the door. He gasps, blushing.

He looks darn _edible_.

His cheeks are such a delicate, adorable pink that the Author’s eyes turn into sparkly hearts and her nosebleed gushes like a drain pipe. She violently hurls herself at him with a scream. ‘Len-kun kiss meeeee~!!’

She mashes her lips against his gaping ones and barrels his whole naked cuteness into the bathtub, kissing him like a legion of freaked-out vampires.

But then all of a sudden, Len stiffens, eyes going wide – and the shocked Author realises she’s forgotten to let go of the kitchen knife she’d been holding. Now it’s buried deep in his soft, lovely stomach, and his warm crimson blood is gushing out like a fountain.

_Ohmygod._

IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL.

Gasping in delight, the Author pulls out the knife and starts stabbing him retardedly in the stomach, making his dislodged insides go slipping and sliding all over the wet bathtub. He’s screaming the whole house down; his voice is so shrill it sounds like a mermaid out of water.

Ah, she remembers, his baby-voice hasn’t changed yet.

It never will.

But the smell of his blood is too freaking _sweet_ to feel any remorse over. The Author squeals at the utterly delicious sensation as the knife sinks into her Vocaloid’s bloodied tummy, again and again – it’s like he’s a helpless girl and she’s fucking his oh-so-soft organs like a mad rapist. It even makes sounds like that. Len is still frantically trying to escape but he’s coming apart in her hands, leaving a trail of intestines and pancreas and fistfuls of liver behind him as he tries to scramble out of the bathtub, bleeding to death.

He makes it out of the tub and slops to the floor in a great vomity mess, feebly dragging himself forward by his arms – but doesn’t make it to the door, and dies face-down on the tiles.

The Author sits on top of him and continues hacking at him like a broken Happy Meal toy, giggling to herself.

Sometime later she sits alone at the dinner table facing two portions of meat casserole and celery salad, and realises she misses him already. Eating alone in her apartment is so lonely. After dinner she goes back to the bathroom – and starts to cry over the sad remains of her Len. His cute face is livid and there’s blood flowing out of his mouth, and blood everywhere, and his stomach looks like it exploded from the inside out. His pink intestines are dangling from the curtain rail.

A giant heap of soggy tissues forms in the dustbin as the Author cleans up the bathroom, blowing her nose tearfully each time she thinks about how sweet his voice was and how sexy he’d looked in his swimming trunks at the beach.

She washes his blood off the tiles, squashes the solid waste into black plastic bags and takes them downstairs to the dumpster behind the apartment.

That night, she can’t sleep without her soft Len-bolster to strangle. She terribly misses the feel of his face between her breasts and his panting breaths fluttering down the groove between them, the feeling of his body trembling between her thighs, his cute little cock against her tongue. She can’t believe he’s not here anymore.

She cries and cries. Her pillowcase is all wet.

‘Oh Len, Len…’ she sobs. ‘I’m so sorry! I should have done that. I can’t live without you~…’

Her monthly budget doesn’t matter anymore.

Wiping her puffy eyes with a tragic sniffle, she reaches for her smartphone, and logs into PayPal to order a new Len unit. Hopefully an Append this time.

 


End file.
